The Cage
by Allie773
Summary: "Sam turns toward Dean, giving him a final glance before descending into Hell, when Michael returns from his Holy Molotov endeavor to try and stop Sam. Both are sucked into the black hole that would conceal their fate forever." Basically just my take on what exactly went down in The Cage. Warning: !Hurt/LimpSam and a little !Angsty/DepressedDean. Mostly Sam-Centered though.
1. Prologue: Swan Song Recap

**Prologue: Swan Song Recap**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. The only thing I own are the errors.  
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A story I decided to write, since lots of ideas came to mind and because I've always hated that Supernatural never went into detail of what happened to Sam in The Cage…

**Be sure to leave a review if you like the story. If not, leave constructive criticism so I can hopefully write more to your liking.**

I actually wrote this and the first chapter awhile back and just picked it up again. So let me know if you want this to continue! Happy Reading :)

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Time seemed to go in slow motion for Dean as he watched his younger brother Sam, now being controlled by Lucifer, relentlessly kill the two closest people in their lives; Cas and Bobby.

In swift motions, Sam was now coming for Dean, throwing him against the windshield of his cherished Chevy Impala and proceeding to brutally pound his fists into what the brothers would joke at as Dean's "delicate features."

Even though so much had happened, and was still happening to him, Dean couldn't feel much of anything. Every sound seemed to be muffled; the corners of his vision were slightly blurred, and the pain in his face from the punches Sam was giving him wasn't as sharp and clear as they should have been.

He guessed a part of him had hoped that simply driving to intervene in the "Destined Battle" would be enough to snap his Sammy back into reality, to take control of his body and not the devil. Of course that was not how things would work out for him, they never did.

He struggled to find his voice, and the quite plea to his brother came out in a tone that didn't sound like Dean; desperate and worry was what his voice sounded like.

Lucifer brought Sam's right hand back into a fist, about to strike Dean with built up force in this blow in particular, when he noted the glimmer in the mossy green eyes that were, at the moment, filled with hatred he had never seen in his brother's eyes before.

Probably because those weren't Sam's eyes. Not really.

They weren't the kind, puppy dog eyes that Dean grew up with and had to resist giving in to so his little brother wouldn't always get his way. No, the look on the face in front of him definitely wasn't one of Sam's, this was Lucifer.

Dean waited for what seemed like hours for the fist to come crashing down into his face, but it didn't. Instead, Sam's whole body was frozen in position, and it seemed like someone had just pushed the pause button on their TV remote in the middle of their favorite show when a viewer took a snack break, the way Dean often did to get a delicious piece of pie that Sam would bring him.

Sam's face slowly but noticeably began to soften, the creases in his forehead and the scowl on his lips began to slowly disappear. Suddenly, as if a switch had just been turned off, Sam's left hand let go of the vice grip he had on Dean's shirt, causing him to lower to the ground. Sam's right hand went slack, letting go of the fist he had formed and stumbled back, sucking in air as if he had been holding his breath for several minutes. The once hard-stoned eyes now had a more confused and surprised look in them, not the murderous look he had been using since he arrived at the cemetery.

Things started to move faster now, as Sam told Dean everything was going to be okay, and quickly pulled out the four horsemen rings and recited the words that would cause the opening of The Cage. Sam turns toward Dean, giving him a final glance before descending into Hell, when Michael returns from his Holy Molotov endeavor to try and stop Sam, when both are sucked into the black hole that would conceal their fate forever.

Now Dean is left, slumped against the Impala, fighting the enormous shock wave that was just sent his way. Not only has his Sammy jumped into the hole, but has now taken their half brother in with him as well. Fighting back a very unmanly sob, Dean struggled to lift his body up and crawl over to retrieve the horseman's rings. Just as he was starting to feel the significant pain in his face, a familiar angel who was thought to be dead appears before Dean. "Cas!?," Dean bellows, now in shock for the second time today. By some miracle, Cas had managed to be revived by an unknown source, and he helps the lonely brother by repairing his injuries from the fist fight with the devil and resurrects Bobby.

They all go their separate ways, Bobby back to his house, Cas back to Heaven to try and guide his fellow angels, and Dean heading to Lisa's house. Even though that wasn't what he wanted to do at all, instead he wanted to start cracking down on the books to find some way to save Sam. But he didn't, because he made a promise to his brother to go and live the apple-pie life. Hell that was practically his dying wish looking back on it. So if Sammy can sacrifice himself to stop the Apocalypse, the least he could do was respect his wishes.

For now.


	2. Arrival

**Chapter 1: Arrival**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. The only things I own are the errors. ;) Happy Reading!**

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Darkness. All Sam could see was darkness, all around him. He was falling, and falling fast to what he could only assume was the deepest part of Hell. Although he was just falling with Adam a few moments ago, he was nowhere to be seen.

Sam could only hear, and what he did hear he wished he hadn't. The high pitched whistling of wind breezing past his ears, the crackling of what could be fire or bones, and what was worst of all was the pounding noise of horrifying screams. The screams of what sounded like every tortured soul in Hell, becoming louder as he fell farther down to his destination: The Cage.

His speed was increasing so rapidly that he no longer had control of his body, and he was turned on his back so that he was looking up at what should have been the hole he just jumped into, but had already been sealed over so that daylight was not seeping in.

Eternal blackness still, and the wind became so powerful Sam felt like his spine was going to snap at a moment's notice. This continued for an agonizing amount of time, exactly how long Sam was not sure. He soon fell, and with a bone shattering force that made him unable to move. His back and head took most of the fall, and they ached tremendously.

It took him a minute to realize that the screaming had stopped. Either that or somehow The Cage had soundproof walls so that the screams were not heard once inside. The silence was probably worse than the screaming though, an eerie feeling rising in Sam's body along with the shocks of pain and all around fear.

Sam managed to roll onto his right side, trying to grab his bearings and get a feel of where he was at. This couldn't be The Cage, could it? He expected a more torturous-dungeon like place filled with screams, not a quiet place by himself like he would prefer to when visiting a library or while doing research for a hunt.

The fall had left him with some serious damage to his spine, so he began to half crawl half drag himself away from where he had landed. The only thing he could hear was his shagged breath and he continued to move, though he didn't know where he was trying to go.

Suddenly there was light that filled the room that Sam now saw was quite large, about the size of a football field. The walls and floor were grey, no furniture or any kind of object that he could see.

"You come here often?" says an all too familiar voice from behind Sam, who quickly spins around to see Lucifer standing about 15 feet in front of him with a bit of a grin, obviously enjoying his witty remark.

"You.. stay away from me!" Sam calls out to Lucifer hastily, inching back from the fallen angel.

Lucifer's grin turns into a flat line as he gingerly moves towards Sam. "And hello to you too! That back isn't feeling too good, huh?"

"Don't get near me," says Sam in a rushed voice as he fails at trying to back away.

"We can't have a conversation if you're 50 feet away from me, now can we? As far as this relationship goes, I feel like I'm the only one making an effort here," Lucifer jokes as he plants his feet on the solid grey tiling of the room and crosses his arms over his chest.

"There is no 'relationship' between you and me. You've jumped into my body, killed Bobby and Cas with my own hands, and beat the shit out of my brother! So as far as _any_ relationship goes, if we had one, this would be a pretty shitty one."

A chuckle escapes the Devil's lips as he responds "Fair enough. I see the humor is not lost in you, Sammy. That's good to know, because if I had to be stuck in here for all eternity again, it would be a big pain in the ass if it was with a snobby, uptight jackass who can't appreciate a good laugh. As for us not having a relationship though, I believe you are wrong. You and I are one and the same, Sam. That's why you are my true vessel."

_What is he playing at? _ "Why are you even talking to me? This is The Cage. I thought you would be angry with me, already hands deep into ripping out my lungs by now."

A heavy sigh comes from Lucifer, followed by "Well, I am extremely angry with you. You did, after all, ruin my plan of finally fixing the world from all the destruction those filthy humans have done to it. I'm not going to ruin the surprise, but you are on the right track with the torture. You will pay for what you have done, but I thought I would put that off for the moment. Proper introductions and all, I thought of showing you the place first!"

"Are you joking? You can't be serious! Showing me the place first… you really are quite the character."

"I'm serious about the tour; I would imagine knowing your surroundings of where you are going to spend eternity is something to know about. Here, I'll show you what all I can do here."

Lucifer then walks past Sam, his back towards him, and mumbles something he can't make out, and suddenly the grey walls and floor turns into a large, abandoned warehouse. Then to a black room filled with snakes, the desert, and then to what looks like a basement filled with chains, hooks, and shackles. "This is just the beginning, Sam. This is my territory now, and you will stay here under my rules. I wish it didn't have to come to this, but I must make you suffer for stopping our plan to fix the world."

"YOUR plan, not mine," Sam states as he stumbles to stand up, facing Lucifer. "Well, shall we get this show on the road then?" he asks Sam with a low, rumbling voice. He doesn't wait for an answer, and with a snap of his fingers Sam is chained against the cold, hard wall that he is facing. "Now, how should I start this…? I apologize for my lack of preparation; I didn't think it would ever come to this."

A snort comes from Sam unintentionally. "Go to Hell. Oh wait, we already did." He can't see Satan's reaction, but he can hear the soft chuckle from behind him, followed by dead silence for so long Sam thought he had somehow escaped. Out of nowhere his jacket and shirt are ripped off, followed by sharp pain in his back which Sam could only think of was hooks digging into his skin. "Sorry about the fabric, I hope it wasn't your favorite," he whispers into his ear. It's all Sam can do not to cry out in pain, he doesn't want to give Satan the satisfaction.A few hooks later he can't hold back, and yells out as he feels blood trickling down his spine. "That's what I wanted to hear. Now let's get started."

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Several more hooks, whips, knives, and some kind of burning liquid later, an exhausted Sam is clinging to the wall, trembling, covered in sweat. "Well this is getting boring for me. How was it for you?"

"Couldn't think of a better way to pass the time," Sam sputters as blood trickles from his mouth.

"You haven't seen anything yet. I suppose I'll give you some time to yourself while I plan out my next torture for you."

A bitter Sam replies, "Oh, how generous of you."

Lucifer's footsteps fade as he walks away, to God knows where, and Sam sags against his shackles on his hands and ankles as he breathes heavily to himself. The hooks are still attached to him, and his entire back and upper arms are raw with pain because of Lucifer.

_And this is only the beginning… That felt like days. What have I gotten myself into? How do I escape this time? No… no, I don't escape this time. I had to do this to save everyone. I made my decision. _

_I hope it was worth it, big brother._

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**Make sure and leave a review if you like where the story is going so far!  
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	3. Settling In

**Chapter 2: Settling In**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. The only things I own are the errors. ;) Happy Reading!**

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Sam continued to hang there against the wall for a little while longer, just trying to catch his breath and stiffen his body in the most comfortable position he could muster with hooks still lodged into his back.

Completely at random, all of the hooks and chains binding him to the now bloodied wall vanished, sending him falling into a heap on the cement floor. Turning around so that he could see the rest of the room but not leaning against the wall to amplify his pain, Sam finally got to take in his surroundings. _Well, the ones at the moment anyways._

The way the air held that musty old feeling to it, as if it had some minor water damage and years of collected dust, reminded him briefly of Bobby's basement. He had to remind himself that this wasn't someone's actual basement though, that even if it held these specific details they didn't change the fact that this wasn't real.

No, scratch that. This was real, damn it. He knew, sure, that it wasn't somewhere topside and the residents of this particularly un-kept basement weren't going to race down those old rickety wooden steps yelling "What the hell are you doing in here!?" and "I'm calling the police right now!"

Sam knew that wasn't the case and never would be the case, but it didn't stop a small part of his brain from hoping so.

The longer he sat there, the more anxious he got. _Where was Lucifer? And why the hell am I not screaming my lungs out right now, but instead sitting here not-too-worse-for-wear in silence? _Speaking of the Devil, there he was now. Sitting down on one of the lowest steps and looking at Sam with a hint of…_regret? No, that couldn't be possible. Pity, maybe._

"Hello Sam," he said gently as he looked him up and down. _Was he really making pleasantries? Or just trying to find some way to rouse him before the next torture? _Either way, Sam didn't answer him. Just looked right back at him, jaw tight and eyes narrowed at the fallen angel before him.

"Oh, come on! It hasn't been _that_ bad yet, has it?"

"Oh yeah, I'm just living it up over here. Can't wait for more" Sam hissed back, his words practically oozing with sarcasm that ended up costing him the game of Silent Treatment he didn't even really notice he was playing.

"Now Sam, being bitter this early in the game really isn't good for you."

"Well, how do you suppose I act, then? The way I see it, I've bought myself a one way ticket to the worst place possible with the most devious _thing_ possible, with the blood of my friends on my hands."

"Well, they weren't really your friends."

"Shut up," Sam spits as he turns his head away.

"I'm being serious, Sam. Sure, they might have been there for you a few times, but all of them were broken and flawed. One of them an angel even! The ones who were supposed to be the models of perfection and resolve. They all betrayed you somewhere along the line, either little or big it's still the same. And in the end, they all let you down."As the carefully chosen words came out of Lucifer's mouth, Sam turned his head back to face him.

"Dean didn't! Dean never gave up on me!"

"Maybe not in Stull, but he has before Sam, and you know it as well as I do. When that demon blood was coursing through your veins, you're telling me that leaving you alone in the Panic Room to choke on your own tongue from the seizures wasn't a letdown?" Lucifer says in mock disbelief.

The backs of Sam's eyes began to sting, but he blinked furiously to stop the tears from forming. He wouldn't give Lucifer the satisfaction of making him cry. He all too well remembered those times though, and even if it wasn't the most caring way to get the blood out of his system, it was effective. With or without a brother there to whisper sweet nothings into his ear to calm him down and ride the storm with him.

Lucifer took the silence as a sign to continue speaking apparently, all the while seeing the wheels turning inside Sam's mind as he fought the memories. "I never betrayed you Sam. I never let you down. Like it or not, but those sound like good qualities that define friendship. I told you from the get-go exactly how it was, and how it would be. No lies, no tricks, and I even showed you kindness. Don't you hate feeling the sting of hurt from the ones closest to you?"

"What are you trying to say?" Sam was just about done with this conversation, he didn't want to hear the Devil's words as he twisted them to try and change what Sam already knew.

"I'm saying…" Lucifer calmly said as he rose from where he had been sitting and came to crouch right in front of Sam, looking him dead in the eyes, "…that betrayal is a two way street."

Then he all but vanished, and the scenery changed to a dark forest with trees as tall as skyscrapers all around him.

Sam _should_ have been scared to death of the growls, snarls, and howls coming from all around him. Sam _should _have been scared of that fact that he was about to get mauled to death by a pack of hellhounds. Sam _should_ have been scared that he hadn't even moved an inch from where he sat, not even attempting to make a run for it but instead sitting stone-cold in the decomposing leaves that lay beneath him.

No, what really and truly scared Sam, was the way his chest tightened on the last line of that conversation, the way his mind registered both the blatantly obvious meaning and the underlying one in those words, and the way the Devil's eyes momentarily flickered with perfidy.

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**Make sure and leave a review if you like where the story is going so far!  
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	4. Topside Blues

**Chapter 3: Topside Blues**

Kind of an unexpected chapter, I just started typing aimlessly and it turned into this. :)

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. The only things I own are the errors. ;) Happy Reading!**

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In short, Dean was one big mess.

His body had been working on autopilot ever since he got back into the Impala at Stull. He didn't even bother to turn the stereo on.

Music was for the good times, like when he and Sam had just come back from a successful hunt and was on their way to a bar before leaving town. Music was also for the bad times, like that one time when Sam had gotten a few bruised ribs and Dean had turned on some of Sam's emo music just to make him feel better. Music was for those nail-biting, hair-pulling, rocking-back-and-forth, 2.5-seconds-from-flipping-out moments like once when Dean had forgotten Sam had called earlier that day to tell him he was doing extra research. Dean found himself cruising the streets at 11:30 that night a nervous wreck looking for him, only to get a phone call that Sam was waiting for him in the motel because he had walked back.

This wasn't any of those times. He didn't even know what this time _was_. Dean couldn't feel anything, yet at the same time his eyes were constantly watering up as if a drill instructor had ordered them to remain that way for the rest of his life or drop and give him 50.

He fell into an infinite loop of nervously tapping all ten of his fingers on the steering wheel subconsciously, and once realizing what he was doing, would change to firmly gripping it until his knuckles turned white.

The Impala's wheels raced over the pavement like the world was ending, because it almost did. Hell, it **had** ended for Dean. It ended the moment Sam's fluffy brown hair fell completely out of view into the hole in the ground and engulfed his brothers like it was the last meal it would ever get.

Dean pushed the gas pedal even harder, just passing a sign that said the speed limit was what, 65? Looking at the speedometer, the hand was shakily passing 80. Thankfully he was on one of those roads in the absolute middle of nowhere and could see miles of road stretched ahead of you. If you actually got caught speeding on this kind of road, which everyone did, by a cop that was blatantly obvious, then you deserved to get your ass a ticket in Dean's book.

The sun was showing signs of setting, but Dean didn't care. Whether the sun or the moon was out didn't make a damn difference to him, neither one of them could give him his brother back.

He drove on, through more populated areas, which he sensibly slowed down to because he really didn't want to get assault charges against an officer that day.

Some way or another, he ended up on Lisa's doorstep. He felt the _whoosh!_ as he stepped toward her and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Dean didn't even trust his own voice, so he just buried his head into her shoulder and took a deep intake of breath to smell her perfume, which smelled like some kind of flower. _What kind of flower? He had no idea. Sam's the girly one, not me._

And again, Dean's mind kept bringing up ways to connect every damn thing with Sammy. Dean didn't even feel control over his body anymore, just a shriveled up version of himself was left deep down in his chest, knees up to his chin and arms wrapped around his legs and whispering _SammySammySammyOhGodSammySammyDon'tGoSammyPleaseDo n'tSammyDon'tGoSammySammySammyComeBackPleaseSammy _ over and over again.

He mechanically sat down at the dinner table, gave a half hazard toss of a roll to Ben and twitched his mouth in some contortion he hoped looked like a smile. He grabbed the spoon with shaking hands and plopped some mashed potatoes onto his plate. _Was it going to feel like this every day?_ He looked up to see Ben's scrunched up face as a response to Lisa dumping a pile of peas onto his plate, and it seemed like just yesterday he was doing the same with Sammy.

"_But Deeeean!" Sam's voice whined as his 9 year old face looked back at his, begging him to take them back. Sam had, for some reason, come to hate peas. Conveniently just when he had bought several cans of the stuff at the grocery store that day. They were marked down, which was good enough for him, so why wasn't it for Sam?_

"_No buts, Sam. Eat up." Each of the boys looking at their own respective plates: Some old ham Dean had found marked down as well, peas, and some pieces of bread that weren't molding according to Dean, although Sam was fairly certain bread didn't naturally have tiny specks of green in it._

"_What did peas ever do to you, huh?" Dean questioned. Maybe if he couldn't physically force the peas down his brother's throat, he could let him ramble until the point of starvation and the peas were their only chance of survival. _

_Obviously Sam hadn't seen that one coming because a lousy "everything" escaped his pouting lips. _

_Dean held back his laugh, and met Sam with an ultimatum. "Okay Sammy, if you eat all of those peas, I'll see what we can do about getting to the library before it closes." Even though their father had given him strict orders to be on full lock-down during one of his many absences to hunt whatever creature was lurking the town nearby, as long as Dean went with Sam and they got back before dark, Dean didn't see the problem. _

_And he really, really needed Sam to eat this food because they didn't have much of anything else at the time; the $100 their dad had given them was running thin. Sam was hooked at the word library, and began grumpily but efficiently pushing pea after pea high onto each tooth of his fork. _

_Dean did laugh this time, taking in the sight before him that was Sam Winchester. God, he loved this kid._

He felt the soft touch of Lisa's hand on his bicep, drawing him back to reality. She was clearly worried, but he didn't really have the strength to fake being "fine" anymore. He blinked his eyes to wash them with the still, ever present moisture that was claiming his vision every second.

Dean bowed his head, slowly grabbed his own fork, and began stacking peas.

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**Please, make sure and leave a review if you like where the story is going so far, or if you don't like it, tell me what you think I should do differently. :)**


	5. Poolside Pains

**Chapter 4: Poolside Pains**

Since the story seems to be taking well so far, I figured I'd make this chapter twice as long. Hope you like it!

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. The only things I own are the errors. ;) Happy Reading!**

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***Side note- I do not own the song 'Bad Company'. All rights are reserve to their respectful owners.**

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_There's something horrifically poetic about drowning in your own blood,_ Sam thought to himself.

He'd been tortured for about 2 weeks now, give or take. It wasn't like he had a window he could look out of at any given time to determine when one day ended and the next began, but he figured he'd at least try and keep track of the time for as long as he could.

_Two weeks down here… if the time altercation is the same with The Cage and Earth as it is with Hell and Earth, it's been about two days for Dean._ Sam's brain had made the calculation, but it just didn't seem to register in his mind how all of this was the equivalent to 48 hours. He wasn't wrong, no. Hell, he'd been doing Dean's algebra homework when he was in 5th grade, so his conclusion was the correct one, just not the desired one.

_God, he missed Dean. _He didn't care how much it sounded like a line from a chick-flick movie, either. He was eternally stuck with Satan, so he had every right to get nostalgic, even though that's how he'd been feeling since the second he hopped in here. It was a steady, resounding feeling that laid buried deep within him and was a constant alert in the back of his mind no matter what Lucifer was doing to him in real time.

Dean was his escape, his lifeline, his conscience. Dean was the voice, which was the only thing he could hear sometimes, calling his name when his own was so loud from screaming that it either caused his own ears to pop, deafening him or it gave out and all that would escape his lips were broken cries in between spitting blood. Dean was the reassuring calm that prevented him from going bat-shit crazy and breaking his own wrists to escape the chains that bound him on several occasions.

Sometimes Sam thought he could even hear the Impala running and AC/DC blaring out of the speakers, his brother singing extremely off key just to piss him off. This in turn, gave the complete opposite effect.

When the Devil wasn't around he would, more often than not, break down into fits of utter sorrow and let out small gasps as the salty streams rushed down his cheeks and dripped onto his arms that were usually covered in both fresh and crusty blood. His blood. Like his original thought, his mind flashed back to the event that had just previously taken place.

Lucifer had clearly taken some sort of liking to drowning Sam in his own blood, so he started to steer his tortures in that final result a few times already. First, when an unsuspecting hellhound from behind him had swung its razor-sharp claws at his throat, causing blood to rush in like he had just opened the flood gates to hell and all of the demons were making a break for it. Second, when he had been plopped down into a dark room and tried to weave his way past the knives that were been chucked at him from all directions. One had hit his right calf, but he limped on to try and find some sort of shelter. Two knives stopped him short of that goal though, one hitting his left lung and the other just above the dip in his collarbone. The third and most recent occurrence, the Devil had just pushed him off of a cliff; the effect was him plunging deep into a sea of blood.

He really couldn't make this stuff up, though Lucifer could and would try every way of punishment imaginable to give him the gratification of trying to drill some message into his head that he still didn't understand.

Eventually he was pulled under the surface of blood and to the bottom by what Sam called a hellshark. A spiked fin, forked tail, black colored armor with red claw marks down both sides, and red eyes that glared at him with pure hate was all Sam could see and ever wanted to see before his vision got black around the edges and everything faded away.

That's all The Cage was; an infinite cycle of waking up, taking in his surroundings to find a way to hold off the inevitable death, get turned into a bleeding hunk of meat anyways, and then slowly fade away until he appeared somewhere else and it started all over again. He didn't intend on fighting off everything that came his way because it was a lost cause, but his hunter instincts and a childhood filled with "We're Winchesters. And Winchesters never give up," sent him into overdrive the moment he was in unknown territory.

At that moment, Sam was laying poolside. This scene had Lucifer's humor written all over it, but Sam didn't have the will to try and decipher another one of his hints as to what message the Devil was unsuccessfully telling him. It wasn't a normal pool, of course, this was his eternal damnation after all and seeing a bright and shiny community size pool filled with clear blue water seemed more like a place in Heaven instead. It very well may have been at one time, Lucifer had been there after all, and he was making all this up in his head, so it wasn't completely out of the question. If it was Heaven's scene, it had some hellish remodeling done to it because now both wall and floor tiles were a mix of copper and charcoal, blood yet again being the constant substance in all of these torturous places, which had filled the pool, and sharp knives on the rungs of the ladder leading up to a diving board which was also a compilation of assorted knives.

Sam couldn't stop himself from letting out the beginning of a chuckle; just picturing someone gladly racing up the ladder to do a front-flip off the diving board into blood just wasn't something he could see demons doing in their spare time. Maybe they all congregated at an evil Starbucks instead, where the extra chocolate frappes Sam liked so much but Dean thought were girly, were extremely overpriced at the cost of 5 years of torture from the lucky demon who took your order. At that, Sam did laugh. His mind was so fucked up by this point that he could make himself laugh at creating the most-likely completely false idea of demons hanging out at a coffee shop.

The all too familiar voice of Lucifer, who was now walking toward him, caused his laugh to stop midway, residing in his heart.

"A company always on the run. A destiny, it's the rising sun. I was born a shotgun in my hands. Behind the gun, I'll make my final stand."Sam couldn't believe his ears as the Devil approached his figure, still laying on the cold tiles but now sitting in an upright position, to face the angel that was singing to him in a low and guttural voice.

"Remind you of anyone?" He voiced, cocking his head to one side and looking at Sam with mild curiosity to see if he would actually put two and two together. "You gotta admit, that's pretty spot on Sammy."

Ugh. He had almost forgotten the Devil's incessant obsession of calling him Sammy. Although that was a name reserved for only his brother to use, for some reason Lucifer had enjoyed using it since the first time they met and by this time he had stopped correcting him since it had gotten him nowhere.

"It's been awhile since you showed your face Luci, getting tired of pulling the puppet strings already?" He didn't even know why his remarks came out tantalizing or sarcastic pretty much anytime he talked to his only occupant in this hellhole, just something about his presence caused everything he said to sound that way. Not like he really minded that much, it was Satan after all; if it got him an extra day or two of torture than originally planned in one way specifically, then it was all the same to him. Lucifer could do whatever he wanted to him whenever he wanted, so why be nice about it?

"Still biting at the hand that feeds I see. Never the less, I'm still in a good mood and no amount of hasty words can sway that." Lucifer proclaimed in a know-it-all voice.

"Yeah, I guess I'd be pretty happy too if I got to spend forever torturing the guy I hate." At this Lucifer raised his eyebrows.

"I don't hate you Sam, not at all."

"Well damn, you really had me there. Gutting me and then watching me drown in my own blood really gave off hating vibes, but I guess that's just me?" he questioned in spiteful agitation and slight confusion.

"You and the Earth are the last good things my father created, I could never hate you Sam. Sure, you've made some mistakes here and there, and set me back farther on schedule than originally planned, but all in good time. This," Lucifer twirls around slowly, hands open and risen above his head as he looked all around, "is a lesson that I've been trying to get through your thick skull for quite some time now."

"And what would that be?"

"That you're drowning, Sam. And it breaks my heart to see it so. That life that you lived before we jumped in here, it was never a good fit for you. Remember, foster care at best? Whether you admit it in the open or not, I know how you feel Sam. I shared your thoughts and emotions for a little while; I know how your head works. You even said it to your brother Dean all those years ago. 'I feel like there's so much evil in the world that I can drown in it.' Your words Sammy, YOURS."

Now the Devil was turning slightly red in the face, taking a half step closer to Sam and never breaking eye contact.

"So?" It seemed like an extremely dumb thing to say, but he really didn't know how else to react at that moment, seeing the angel before him who had in the past always remained calm, cool, and collective looked like he was genuinely frustrated.

"Your too attached, Sam. You have so much love in your heart, and you waste it on the worthless apes that traipse the Earth. On all of those _nothings_ that would call you a freak in the hallways at school, the rude ones that didn't bother to extend the same common courtesy that you gave them when you needed the help, the ones who dumped every problem on your shoulders. They tried to _break_ you, Sam! Can't you see? And now you're breaking yourself even further because you're _not_ getting harped on? Even I don't follow that one Sammy. I'm your sanctuary. I'm your answer to why you always felt so different. To shield you from the pain, because only I understand the true you."

By this point Sam had risen to his feet and was rocking back and forth, side to side, crossing and uncrossing his arms, anything to stop the chills that kept racing down his spine.

His heart on some level began to embrace what was being said to him, but his mind was screaming at him _"No! Don't listen to him, Sam! He's the Devil! Do you really think any word that comes out of his mouth is right!? He doesn't understand! I do!" _Somewhere along the line that screaming voice inside of him and turned into Dean's. God, he didn't know what to believe anymore.

"_Believe me!"_ Dean begged.

He couldn't let his brother down, even though it wasn't really his brother, not again. He had to at least side with him this time, he owed him that much.

"No. No, you're wrong." Sam muttered out in a shaking voice as his head frantically shook from side to side as if both physically and vocally denying the Devil's proposed insight would convince the both of them.

_Tsk!_ "You'll come to see that I'm not. Soon…"

At this Sam felt a hand grab the back of his hair and yank so that his head snapped up. Another hand pushed his right shoulder so hard that he fell to his knees and his head was hanging off the edge of the pool, the blood inches away from his face, palms grasping the corner of the pool.

He turned his head slightly down and to the right to see between his right arm and leg as Lucifer began humming loudly while turning his back to Sam. "Soon, Sam." Those words hung in the air and echoed as the bounced off of the walls.

"That's why they call me, bad company." Lucifer sang in a quiet voice that almost sounded sincere, why exactly Sam wasn't sure. He wanted to figure out as to why, but someone had other plans as his thought process was immediately put on hold; his head pushed forcefully into the blood, filling his throat and nasal cavities in a rush.

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**Make sure and leave a review if you like where the story is going so far!**

I had been listening to the song Bad Company the other day and when I really listened to the lyrics that they sounded a lot like words for a Winchester's POV. Before I knew it, the song had found it's way to slip into the chapter and I couldn't resist. Hopefully you all enjoyed that extra tidbit!


	6. White Ropes

**Chapter 5: White Ropes**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. The only things I own are the errors. ;) Happy Reading!**

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*******I've had this (Part 2) idea in my head for quite some time now. I've been waiting for something even remotely close to happen in the show but it hasn't. You all probably don't know but I write all of these chapters in about an hour, give or take, and then polish them up for about 10-15 on here and then publish them. It's a pretty improvable thing, so it's all fresh and new to me as much as it is to you all. Since I've been tossing this idea around for a long time I felt like it all had to be 'just so.' Which in turn, made this chapter take about 2 hours and 30 minutes just to write. ._.

*******I decided to split these two scenes apart because I feel like mashing them together as one continuous thing didn't seem right, but putting them in different chapters would lose the effect since they happen back to back. So, hopefully you all enjoy this rather long chapter, sorry that it took longer than anticipated! Now enough of my rambling, get reading! ;)

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**Part One**

Two years. Sam listened to his mind for two years. All of the "Don't listen to him, Sammy!" and "That's my boy!" cheers in his mind, which was still Dean's voice, had slowly started to disappear. He used to hear his brother all the time, in the back of his head trying to ward off all of the Devil's smooth talking. Now it was just on occasion, the slight little whisper saying "No" to him but Lucifer's hundreds of delicately worded monologues eventually outweighed them.

Sam hated himself for it, but he couldn't hold on anymore. Dean was his building block to whatever scrapes of sanity he could gather in a place like The Cage. When his voice left, the blocks started to crumble on Sam. He knew Lucifer could see it too, and he didn't even feel like he was being taken advantage of because he was finally starting to grasp the concept that had been pitched to him since Day 1: Lucifer was right. The way he was always right, and it should have pissed Sam off, except that between all of the beatings and drowning, he really didn't have the resolve to fight back.

He was sitting in a meadow at the time, tall thin blades of rich green grass all swaying in the motion the light wind was blowing. It seemed like a clip taken out of a Hallmark movie, which he used to watch on late nights with Jessica in their dorm at Stanford. Hold crap, he was thinking about Jessica. He only did that when shit was getting really bad. She was Sam's last resort; save for Mary which he was sure would have loved Hallmark movies just as much as Jess. Now he was thinking about both of them. Damn, he really was grasping at straws here.

"That's what happens to you when you're permanently grounded in Hell I guess," Sam said to nobody in particular. Now _that_ was not a line that belonged in any Hallmark movie. That line did fit his surroundings now though, considering the fact that the little detail that made this scenery so un-perfect was the blood covering all of the grass. Literally, every blade of grass had at least a speck of red liquid on it. He had just watched over 100 men and women get slaughtered in 100 different ways. Fake people, he had to remind himself multiple times throughout the little show Lucifer was putting on for him.

Sometimes he would do that, instead of outright physical torture he would switch to the really psychological shit that tore his heartstrings time and time again as he had to watch whatever show the Devil was playing that night. Rarely would he have to watch as a supernatural creature killed another person, which went against his now dulling hunter instincts and really fucked up his mind. _"Save them!"_ his mind screamed at him, but he couldn't do a damn thing and had to sit back and watch as some poor kid screamed for her parents and even God before getting her throat ripped out by a werewolf.

But then again, those were the days when his mind still had the balls to speak up and say something. The only things he heard these days were someone's screams, his own screams, his blood splattering against a wall or floor, his bones snapping, his skin ripping, and Lucifer's pleading voice. He hated to even think it, but he'd rather have Lucifer's voice any day over someone else screaming bloody murder for hours on end.

He closed his eyes and fell back onto the dirt and grass that surrounded him. The whistling of the breeze was the only noise, which was honestly, a little awkward because he had been hearing chaos for so long now that he didn't even know how to relax. He tried though, because he didn't know what had gotten Lucifer in his good graces enough that he could actually be in peace for a few precious moments, he wasn't going to waste it.

"Sammy." His head snapped to the side, turning his right ear to hear the sound from where it was coming from. _Was it just my imagination?_

"Sammy." There it was again! He did open his eyes this time, and swiveled his head to see just what was calling him. It was either Lucifer or Dean, and well, I think he knew which one it would be, keeping in mind that he hadn't heard jack squat from Dean in far too long. So why would he now?

His top half reacted before anything, his eyes meeting two green orbs staring right back at him with that oh so familiar lopsided grin reserved only for him. It was Dean. _His Dean was here! _Sam's face broke into an infectious grin, causing Dean to smile even wider than before, if that was even possible.

_Wait, no. If Dean was here, then that meant…no! _"Dean." His voice came out rushed and panicky as it was dawning on him just how bad this situation really was if his brother was here. "Everything is fine Sam, really. I'm fine. I didn't die, and I'm not in The Cage with you." Sam relaxed at the news, because if his brother really had found a way to jump in with him, then he would have kicked his ass all over this cage.

"Well then how-" Sam started, but Dean held out his hand to stop him before he could finish. "Doesn't matter. But I gotta talk to you, so you're gonna listen." Sam nodded his head for him to continue. _Damn, I almost forgot what Dean in charge felt like._

"Sam, listen to me. I know that we had it hard, all our lives. And sometimes I wasn't there for you, or I made it worse. I've said some awful stuff to you in the past, but that was just my temper man. You know I didn't mean any of it. I love you, Sammy. It was my job to protect you, and look where you're at now."

At that Dean looked down at his hands, like they had all the answers and if he looked hard enough he could find them.

"Hey, don't do that. You were an amazing brother, Dean. You are an amazing brother, and I couldn't have asked for a better one." He tried to reassure his older brother, and it apparently had at least a little bit of an effect, because he continued where he left off before Sam interrupted.

"Anyways, I just wanted to say that I'm so sorry Sammy. I know it probably doesn't feel like it, but I'm always gonna be there for you. Can you promise me something?"

"Of course, anything Dean. What?"

"Don't forget me." His voice was so tiny he almost didn't hear it.

He was about to answer when the wind picked up a huge gust and his thick brown hair started to fall in his eyes. His nose started to tickle from small strands of hair and he batted his right hand at it to hopefully stop their poking before he sneezed. He didn't even see Dean looking at him with tear-filled eyes or hear the soft chuckle that came from his lips before he disappeared.

Sam's eyes opened and the rush of daylight pierced his still sensitive eyes. _Wait, what? Wasn't he just looking at Dean?_ He was lying on the ground still too.

_No…_ His mind was finally catching up with itself and the pit of his stomach dropped. He jumped up and turned around every which way to find Dean but he was nowhere in sight.

It was all a dream.

**Part Two**

Sam blinked his eyes and he was no longer in the bloody meadow. _Where was he?_ Wherever he was, it was dark. Not just nighttime but like, I-can't-see-my-hand-waving-in-front-of-my-face dark. He didn't even notice the sound until he stopped thinking and listened. _That sounds like a waterfall._ But it was all around him, a circle probably, incasing him in this area.

He slowly began to take steps, and his boots made an echo that flew off of the walls surrounding him, which did give him an idea of just how big this room was. It was about 25'x25', though it felt like much smaller. He still couldn't see shit, so when his left foot caught on a rise in the floor ahead it didn't really surprise him, but it did cause him to curse as he stumbled forward and thankfully had enough balance not to fall flat on his face. Even if this was The Cage and it was just him and Luci, he still didn't lose the feeling of embarrassment at petty things like tripping and falling down.

He finally made his way so that he was right next to whatever liquid, preferably water, was pouring out of the openings of the circular walls trapping him in this circle. From the sound he could make out, it sounded like the source of where the liquid was gushing out from was at least 15 feet above him. _Oh great. So if this place does end up flooding in on itself, I couldn't even try and stop it from flowing out._

Taking a risk, because what the hell, he drew his right hand out towards it and the stuff poured down on the tips of his fingers. He heard a loud noise, as is someone flipped some huge switch behind him, and he turned his head back to see what it was. That was kind of a pointless move, considering it was still dark. But apparently the switch noise did something, because bright white light shined down on him lighting up the entire area around him. And it stopped Sam dead in his tracks.

What he thought and hoped was water turned out to be, once again, blood. Everywhere around him, in a circle he guessed correctly about, he was completely engulfed by red. Jerking his head back so quickly he heard his neck pop but not really caring and too numb to pay attention to the pain, he stared wide eyed at his hand that he was still letting get soaked with blood. He yanked his hand back and shuffled his way to the middle of the circle, looking all around him to look for something, anything.

Then he heard Lucifer's voice in a low grumble, "Sa-am." Which was followed by a wicked laugh that sounded so evil he could've swore his bones shook. It wasn't Lucifer's laugh though, no, it was… his? Extremely confused because clearly Sam was not laughing, he got a bad feeling in his gut. But who would in a situation like this?

The next thing he heard made him twice as freaked out: "Saving People. Hunting Things. The Family Business." _That was Dean's voice._ Better yet, he remembered Dean telling him that. It happened all those years ago when they went into the woods after that Wendigo, and all Sam could think about was finding Yellow Eyes.

"Sam? Wait. You're just going back from your brother? The guy you ran away from?" _Meg? Seriously, what the fuck was going on?_ He remembered her saying that too, when he was at that bus stop waiting to go to California to look for their dad. _What is this, blasts from the past?_ A huge hodgepodge of voices started coming together and he picked some of them out.

"He's my brother." _My voice._

"If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it together." _My voice again._

"SAM!" _Woah, that one's all Dean._

"That's my job, right? Watch after my pain in the ass little brother?" _Dean again._

"COME ON! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!?" _Me again._

The voices had started to get louder and louder, pounding against Sam's skull. He forcefully shut his eyes and tried to block it out, but the memories just started coming faster.

"I thought it was supposed to be you and me, against the world."

"If what you're doing is so_ terrific,_ then why did you lie to me about it? Why did an _angel _tell me to stop you?"

"Do you know how far off the reservation you've gone? How far from normal? From human? If I didn't know you, I would want to _hunt_ you."

"It's gonna get darker, and darker, and God knows where it ends."

"You know what that means, Sam? That **God** doesn't want you doing this."

"You let me down in ways that I can't even…"

"You chose a demon over your own brother!"

"I don't think we could ever be what we were."

"I can't trust you."

"Monster, Sam. You're a monster!"

"I tried, so hard, to pretend that we were brothers. That you weren't one of the filthy things that we hunt. But we're not even the same species. You're _nothing_ to me."

At this point Sam couldn't take it anymore. He put his hands up to cover his ears but he could still hear the voices. He didn't even try and hold back the tears now, it was useless. He was being tormented by his own past, and oh how shitty it looked right about now.

"You set me free." Now there was the calm line from when he had first met Lucifer.

"I want to give you everything."

"I will never lie to you. I will never trick you."

"We're two halves made whole, literally. MFEO."

"I'm your real family."

"All those times, you weren't running away from _them_. You were running towards _me_."

"I want you to be happy, Sam."

His name ringing in his ears as he felt like the room was spinning. _I need to get out of here._Not even knowing where he was headed, he ran straight through the bloodfall.

He entered a room that had only a pristine white rope hanging in the center, whatever door he just came through slammed shut behind him. The floor started to shake, and cracks began to form quickly across the black marble and small sections began falling through. He ran towards the center and grabbed the rope just when the entire floor collapsed, leaving him hanging there in a dark abyss.

Lucifer appeared in front of him, reserved as always but with what looked like actual concern in his demeanor. "Sam." His heart ached at the sound and he felt so exhausted that his arms started to shake and he knew he didn't have much longer before he fell.

"I'm here, Sam. I'll always be here." Sam looked down and couldn't see a damn thing besides more darkness. _God, he felt like he was being smothered with the darkness._ "Trust me, Sam. Nobody cares about you more than me, the past just proved that."

Thick and heavy beads of sweat formed on Sam's brow. The ringing of his name was still in his head, and everything was starting to ache. He only saw one way out of this.

"Tell me what you want, Sam." He looked the Devil in the eye and answered him with a weak but honest voice for the first time, "I want it to stop."

"It will Sam, it will. You just have to let it go. Let it all wash away. I'll still be here." One thought entered his mind at the last second; _I'm sorry, Dean._

He looked back at Lucifer who gave him a solemn nod of acceptance.

Sam let go.

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**Make sure and leave a review, favorite, and follow if you like where the story is going! I love the feedback! Also, you're more than welcome to spread the word about this story if you like it. :)  
**

**As A Side Note: **This was a pretty intense chapter, don't you think? :o I thought so when I was creating it.


	7. Snatching Bodies

**Chapter 6: Snatching Bodies**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. The only things I own are the errors. ;) Happy Reading!**

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*****This story is reaching it's ending, and will most likely only have one other chapter. :c I'm sad to see it end, but I think it's ready to wrap up.

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Things started to blur for Sam after his revelation. Time seemed to go by faster, not that he counted anymore though either. He wasn't living, no, dying in denial anymore. Sam had come to accept that this is where he belonged, where he found solace, where he both started and stopped grieving. This was his home now. He was _made_ for this.

There was still torture, no doubt, that hadn't changed. But the methods in which he was punished were different from before. Pain wasn't mind blowing, Earth shattering, lung bursting, or causing his eyes to roll into the back of his head. His tone when talking to Lucifer wasn't snarky or rude, his skin didn't crawl when he saw the guy, and he had come to actually find him quite fascinating.

Sam had always loved books and stories, so much so that when he was little, books were one of the few reasons he would get into trouble. He shook off the comments like "You can't lock pick a library," or "Checking out 12 books at a time isn't a number the staff are comfortable with." So when Lucifer sat down with him after a particularly rigorous session of beatings and started to tell stories of his own, Sam's interest was piqued.

He had learned a lot from the fallen angel to be completely honest; not like having that extra knowledge did him any good. He was never going to go anywhere that he could use it for, but it was still nice to have. Knowledge was a good thing 99% of the time according to Sam.

If it was hard to explain something to Sam, often he would remember the specific thing Lucifer was talking about from the time when they were linked together with his "yes." They had shared a brain, and heart, and everything else too at one point, so all of Lucifer's memories were in Sam's head; they just weren't upfront like his own. If he dug deep enough, he was sure he could find lots more. But listening to Lucifer tell them was always preferred, with the extra side comment he always had about something or the tone in which he told the story and how he worded it.

Through all of the stories and pain, Sam never forgot Dean. He made a promise many years ago to Dean, which was really more to himself, that he wouldn't forget where he came from. He didn't talk about Dean with the Devil; he wouldn't care about the little flashbacks Sam would get that always involved his brother in some way, and it ached his soul whenever his brother crossed his mind.

Sam wouldn't say that he was friends with the Devil; friends didn't seem like the right word. The closest he could come to describing it was that they were "connected." It's not like anyone else in the entire universe had been in the same situation and people had created several synonyms for whatever the relationship between Satan and his vessel were.

Nothing really phased Sam anymore; he had seen all the horrors and felt all the pain that nobody would ever feel, had been told the stories that nobody could ever know, so it was both relieving and terrifying when he felt an unimaginable amount of pain speed through his entire body without notice. Even Lucifer was shocked, he wasn't the one behind all of this and it angered him that he wasn't in control of the only two things that were his; The Cage and Sam. He flew high and low using his scorched wings to try and solve the mystery that had rudely reared its ugly head without invitation into his territory.

He was on the complete opposite end of The Cage when he saw a glimmer of light twinkle momentarily as it rushed into The Cage and back out. _An angel_. He couldn't stop it from swooping down at Sam and rushing off, leaving Sam yelling one final time before passing out. _The audacity of that angel!_ Thinking they could just waltz in and out of here like it was a McDonald's drive thru.

Sam was never the same after that, and Lucifer took notice of it. They had come to the conclusion that his body had been stolen, leaving his soul behind with the Devil. Whether that was on purpose or not, they didn't know. It was harder to punish Sam without a body, so torture was less physical and mostly emotional and mental.

Things seemed to cool down after that, Sam eventually came to terms with not having a body, and they didn't have any other note-worthy incidents or visitors; until Death came knocking on their door.

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**Make sure and leave a review, favorite, and follow if you like how the story is turning out! I love the feedback! **


	8. Free At Last

**Chapter 7: Free At Last**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. The only things I own are the errors. ;) Happy Reading!**

***I Suggest Reading This Before Jumping Into The Story* **After revising, I'm not entirely satisfied with how quickly the last chapter went. Reading over it I felt like I wrote it in a rush, the lines going in rapid fire, and no dialogue which isn't like me. Some points were still valid that I liked, so this chapter is me, somewhat backtracking everything from the last chapter in Sam's take I guess. What I really didn't like was that I felt like the previous chapter was somewhat giving off the vibe that The Cage wasn't **the worst** place in the world a person could ever be in, which it is. And somewhere along the line it seemed like that value went away, which isn't how I feel about The Cage at all. It isn't something that I think you can just gloss over, so hopefully this chapter helps steer clear of that if any of you readers were getting those vibes at well. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy.

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Fire: The thing that seemed to show up at some of Sam's worst moments. Take for example; Mary's death, Jessica's death, and now Sam's excruciating torture in the Pit.

Both he and Lucifer had come to terms with the fact that Sam was just a soul now. Without a body for souls to rest in, they can just flow freely in the air like fog, or come together in a ball and shine so bright that it burns one's eyes out. Sam didn't know that was going to happen of course, and the fact that Luci was coincidently standing directly in front of him when his soul came together for the first time to blind the Devil was purely accidental. The high-pitched screams wailing from Lucifer afterwards, before he healed himself, were strangely therapeutic for Sam. The guy had been slicing, dicing, and burning Sam for so many years now, it was about damn time he got some of his own medicine. Again, it wasn't intentional, but damn it felt good.

Being just a soul took some getting used to, and eventually Sam even found a way to form his soul into a projection of his own body. Sam decided to stick with that form since it was the closest thing to having a body that he would ever get, and after awhile he and the Devil forgot that he was just a soul.

At that moment, Sam was in his body form, as usual, tied down to a chair and being burnt to a crisp, which would then fall into a pile of ash. He'd been on this rotation for awhile now, and once he turned to ash he would reappear strapped down in the chair yet again and the fire would crawl all over him for another round.

This hurt like a bitch, like everything else did. He'd been through a lot of torture over the course of his time in The Cage, and it still hadn't let up in intensity. He thought it had for that short period of time after he came to accept the pain and stopped missing life on Earth, but that had just been some sort of fluke in his system. It was a period of being numb to everything and practically flinging himself at the knives destined to slit his throat. But now, Sam wasn't so gung-ho on the price he was paying for stopping the extinction of the human race.

Pain had become a constant for Sam now, so much so that he began to compartmentalize when he started to feel it, so often his mind wandered off the other things like it was doing right now. Recently Sam had started forming a theory about himself, based off of his initial reactions to things and how he had been behaving, and he believed he had come to a conclusion: He was evolving. In a strange, agony-filled, self deprecating kind of way. He was a different guy now than he was when he first arrived, and the old version of him would have found that conclusion rather disturbing, but now he just accepted it. It seemed like an obvious fact; after back to back torture with Satan for who knows how many years, of course a person would change. But Sam had changed so much before he even said "yes" to the Devil, that he didn't realize he still _could_ change.

The stages he had been through were: Confusion when he first arrived because he didn't understand how The Cage worked yet, Denial because he hadn't wrapped his mind around the concept Lucifer was selling him, Borderline Insanity when his grief had caught up with him and tormented him until he gave in, Acceptance which followed after he gave in and he stopped wrapping himself in his own sorrow and faced the facts, and now he was in the Conflicted stage. Sam knew that he deserved this suffering, but he didn't want to shoulder the consequences anymore. He felt like he'd done it all, seen it all, knew it all, and accepted it all, but it didn't appeal to him anymore.

If he didn't know better, Sam could've sworn he was bored.

This sounds like an absurd thing since one's mind upon hearing that word automatically jumps to the idea of not having anything on a person's plate, which was quite the opposite in Sam's case. But that was somewhat a misconception of the word; Sam had all sorts of things dumped on his plate since basically the day he was born, he was just ready to move on to something else.

If he could see his subconscious, it'd probably be frantically pacing back and forth, impatiently tapping its foot while sighing obnoxiously loud, and frequently checking its watch going _"Okay, we get it! Now, is that all there is? Really? That's all we're ever gonna amount to?"_ He wanted something different, new scenery. So to speak anyways, he got new scenery all the time between being crushed in dark rooms, to melting in deserts, and even dying slowly from infection in rainforests. But hey, as long as he got a great view, right? _Hah, what a joke. _

So the day when Death showed up was a great one for Sam, even though at the time he didn't even know why the horseman was there. It was something different, and that's all that mattered to him.

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"What!?" Lucifer bellowed as both his and Sam's eyes turned to the size of saucers after hearing Death's declaration.

"You obviously heard me, so I'm not going to repeat myself to answer your useless question."

"B-But, you can't do this." Satan was stuttering? _Damn, if only Sam had some popcorn. _

"I won't let you do this." Luci said with a tone of finality in his voice.

"It's not on _you_ to _let_ me do anything, _boy," _Death said in return, giving extra emphasis on the words "you," "let," and "boy." At this point, it was just a battle of wills between the two powerful forces as they stared each other down for longer than Sam felt comfortable with. Eventually Death won, because as he twirled his cane in his own signature way, he pushed the end of it into the dead center of Lucifer's chest and pushed him out of the way to grab Sam, and Lucifer did nothing to stop it.

The moment Death came into contact with Sam's soul, it immediately formed together into the rarely seen bright ball of white light, which was soon followed up by being shoved into Death's bag that looked about the same age as Death himself. The bag closed, and Death turned on his heel and began walking away. In the last few moments before they left The Cage, Sam heard Lucifer whisper "Until next time, Sam. Remember your home."

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The next series of events before they landed topside were extremely painful and happened in a rush, leaving him feeling drained. Whatever process you have to go through to get from The Cage to Earth is a complex one that Sam will never even begin to understand, but from feeling alone he knows he doesn't wanna have to 'hop the border' again anytime soon, that's for sure.

With a great amount of precision and caution, Sam is now being raised out of the bag, while being held in Death's vice-like grip. He can see all around him; _He's in the Panic Room? Why?_ Whiskey bottles are scattered at random on the floor, _at least some things never change._ Dean and Bobby are in the doorway staring off to the side, and that's when he hears his own voice yell "Don't do this! You don't know what'll happen to me!" _Holy shit! So this is where his body went?_ Sam had so many damn thoughts and questions running through his head, but he didn't have enough time to break any of them down before he was being shoved forcefully into his body's chest cavity and everything went black.

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**Make sure and leave a review, favorite, and follow if you liked the story! I love the feedback! **

*I'm thinking about possibly doing a short epilogue, which would be divulging into Sam as soon as he awakes, but I'm not sure. Yes? No?


	9. Epilogue: Home

**Epilogue: Home**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. The only things I own are the errors.  
**

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*Take note that this wasn't really AU, at least not to me at least. Just... an explanation to fill in the gaps the show decided to skip over. So, of course, Sam will wake up with no memory of the previous chapters. Or will he...? ;D

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This is the final chapter to this story, and I feel a little sad I gotta say. With this being the first fanfic that I have ever written, I'm stunned at all the positive feedback it's gotten. I just wanted to take up the space to give a big "**Thank You!"** to everyone who reviewed, followed, and gave a favorite to this story. And also to everyone who just took the time to read this story. It still seems crazy to think that you all have read my ideas which until now had been only in my head. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy the final chapter and as always; **Happy Reading! ;)**

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The faster Sam started to wake up, the faster the pounding in his head got. Just relentless, _dun-dun, dun-dun, dun-dun_, that was reaching a volume that Sam started to question if his head really was his head or instead an 808 drum.

While fading in, he also felt like a Ton weight was pushing him deeper and deeper into whatever cushion he was laying on. He tried to push the figurative elephant off of him, but his limbs wouldn't budge. His entire body felt like it was a bag of rocks slowly sinking to the bottom of the ocean, if he was being honest.

Sam tried to think about what had caused him to end up in this situation, but nothing sprung to his mind. _Huh, that's weird. Guess I'll try again._ Sam searched thoroughly into his mind for any sort of clue as to where he was and why, but he kept pulling up blanks. Something was definitely off. Sam never forgot things, at least not things this important. _Fish for information and retain it, _that was Sam's motto. So why, as he mentally searched every storage locker in his mind, was every single one of them empty?

Just what the _hell_ had gone down?

Sam started to fade in to reality after each passing second, and his hearing finally decided to join the party of confusion that was Sam. The deep rumbles of two voices seeped through the corridor and into the room Sam was in. They striked him has familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on exactly who the voices belonged to.

Finally Sam's eyes decided to comply with him, and as they slowly swept open a flood of light rush in, momentarily blinding him as he cursed outwardly in a whisper. He then took note of his own voice, which was unbalanced and came out in shuttering croaks until he roughly coughed to break the drainage and cleared his throat.

Turning his head to the side, he noticed the metal walls around him and the old cot he was resting on that was half moth eaten. The place reeked of old booze, and then he realized where he was; the Panic Room. But how did he get to Bobby's?

His curiosity overpowered everything else as he started to move towards the voices. Every muscle in his body screamed at him saying _"No! Just let us rest!"_ but Sam wasn't hearing any of it, and began to stumble towards the vault-like door. His shaky legs failed to get with the program though, and he nearly busted his head open on the concrete floor but miraculously his hands had flown out to catch him at the last second.

A grunt and several curse words later, Sam was moving again. He didn't care that he needed all the help he could get to make his way to the staircase, his arms flying towards anything they could use to hold himself up. Halfway up the stairs Sam got lightheaded and nearly fell all the way back down, but he snapped out of it and trudged on. He had shaken off the rust of walking, which was now getting to be fairly easy, and his eyes darted over everything at least twice as he passed through the doorway to the kitchen and making his way into the living room.

He saw Dean sitting in a chair, his back towards him, talking to Bobby. He heard his brother say "Okay, I'm not changing the channel," and he couldn't take it anymore. "Dean," he called out and instantly his brother turned to him, wide eyed, and rose from where he was sitting. "Sam? Are you-" Dean said, but was cut off by Sam's bear hug of an embrace after taking two graceful strides towards him. Damn, it felt good just to be in the vicinity of his older brother. Sam felt the ripples of Dean's muscles on his upper back as he just as forcefully wrapped his own arms around him.

A flood of memories came back to him in slow motion; Him sitting on the hood of the Impala while Dean stood beside it and told him that he would back his play at stopping Lucifer, Dean's quiet pleas as he begged him not to say "yes" to Lucifer even though he knew about the horseman's rings, Dean's beaten and bloody face staring back at him as he swore he wouldn't leave him, and his final glance at his brother overflowing with love and sadness before he fell into the hole.

Sam's eyes snapped open as he pulled away from Dean and looked over him once more before turning his attention to the other man in the room, and swatted at Dean's back as he walked and pulled the other man into an embrace as well. A rather stiff one at that, he noted. _Was Bobby that surprised to see a dead man walking? Or was it the fact that he was the dead man?_

Sam blinked and more memories blooded back to him; Bobby's encouraging words to not let the Devil win, Bobby firing the Colt at him, and finally Bobby's neck twisting at a painful angle before he fell to the ground with a thud.

Sam pulled back from him as well and started "Wait, I saw you… I-I felt, Lucifer snap your neck?" Bobby looked questioningly at Dean and shook his head as he mumbled, "Well, Cas…"

"Cas is alive?" Just how many more cats were going to come flying out of the bag today?

"Yeah, Cas… Cas is fine. Sam, are you okay?" Dean asked Sam as he stepped closer to his brother with the beginning signs of worry on his face.

_"Am I okay?"_ Sam asked himself. He let out a half-laugh at the thought that he didn't even know. He had never been okay, so why would he be now? He realized that he had been thinking for too long and tension was beginning to fill the room along with the silence. "Actually, um, I'm starving." Sam didn't really know what to say, and his stomach had just twitched in a rather uncomfortable way, so he figured the excuse was good enough.

He was ushered into the kitchen while Dean grabbed some beers for both of them and Bobby went to work on making a quick sandwich. Sam stared off at the half opened shutters as he felt a wave of emotion hit him like a brick wall. As if he was missing something, but he just didn't know what it was. He felt like something should be happening… _something should be happening to him?_ No, that couldn't be right… _could it?_ It was a huge absence and he didn't know what had caused it or what could fill it, but he didn't voice his concerns.

Sam was handed an already open beer, that he gratefully accepted, and took a swig before pulling it away from his mouth and staring at the label. At the bottom he noticed in the fine print the word "homebrew," which stood out from all the rest for some odd reason. Not even the whole word, really, just the first half.

**Home.** _What was it about that word?_ It echoed in his mind over and over again, dawning on him that the voice that was saying the word was… _Lucifer?_ His eyes widened a fraction, and if Dean noticed while staring at his beautiful minded brother, he didn't comment on it. _"Home… Remember… Remember… Next Time…Remember Your Home."_ The ending phrase that seemed to fit together sent a chill down Sam's spine. What the hell was _that?_

"Hey, you in there?" Dean said as he waved a hand in front of his face. "Y-Yeah. I'm here," he replied with a lopsided smile that his brother bought. The clatter of a plate being sat in front of him was a welcome distraction, his eyes falling on the sandwich and then quickly picking it up as he gobbled down the first bite.

Sam didn't mention his little memory spasm to either of the men staring at him. What would he say? "_Oh, and, I just heard some fragments of a one sided conversation with the Devil that may or may not be true. Just a heads up."_ Sam hadn't even been up for 10 minutes yet, and he was already keeping secrets. A speck of guilt was already starting to form, landing on his shoulder and he felt the weight pushing down against him.

His brother snapped him out of his guilt trance though, by starting off the interrogation as to just how much he remembered. It all felt blurry to him as he answered Dean's questions, asked his own about the deal his brother had made with Death, and took more bites of his food.

All the while his mind screaming at him one phrase crisp and clear that Sam didn't understand: _"When do I go back home?"_

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**Once again, thank you all so very much for reading this and giving all the wonderful feedback. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did while writing it! :) You're more than welcome to leave final reviews, possibly your favorite part of the story? I'd love to know what you all enjoyed the most.  
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Until Next Time! ;)


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